[ There's a lot about this moment he's regretting, now that they've been thrown so violently into it. He hates the way Alhaitham stares him straight in the face, a cold glower in his eyes that makes Kaveh's stomach do uncomfortable, unpleasant flips in his abdomen, because oh Archons help him he's really fucked up this time, but also how is it possible that the scribe looks so good like this?
Somehow, the thought emboldens him, and where he's still shaky on his feet Kaveh manages to hold Alhaitham's glare and return it, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he takes the other half-step that brings them toe-to-toeโ and the part of his brain that's still drunk is insisting that he just close the space and shut the scribe's arrogant mouth with a kissโ his upper lip curling in scorn. ]
Good! [ He can't hiss the way Alhaitham does, the word half-shouted instead as his fists tighten in an effort to hold his ground and not do something heinously stupid. ] I don't want your help anyway!!
[ It's the kind of argument that might have left him furiously teary-eyed after the fact if he weren't drunk and horny. The scribe cuts to his core in a way that no one else has ever seemed to be able to, understanding him well enough to tear him to shreds without blinking an eyelid. Which just makes Kaveh wonder all over again why he's supposedly trying to help him tonight, why he's making the architect's problems his business when usually he stays the hell out of it allโ
Maybe it's this new fucking hero complex he's got.
That's the thought on his mind when Alhaitham calls him a coward, and Kaveh feels something break, and very suddenly there are tears glimmering in the corners of his crimson eyes. And as the other man straightens up, but before he can turn away, he swings with one of those clenched fists, aiming to hit him square in the jaw. ]
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Somehow, the thought emboldens him, and where he's still shaky on his feet Kaveh manages to hold Alhaitham's glare and return it, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he takes the other half-step that brings them toe-to-toeโ and the part of his brain that's still drunk is insisting that he just close the space and shut the scribe's arrogant mouth with a kissโ his upper lip curling in scorn. ]
Good! [ He can't hiss the way Alhaitham does, the word half-shouted instead as his fists tighten in an effort to hold his ground and not do something heinously stupid. ] I don't want your help anyway!!
[ It's the kind of argument that might have left him furiously teary-eyed after the fact if he weren't drunk and horny. The scribe cuts to his core in a way that no one else has ever seemed to be able to, understanding him well enough to tear him to shreds without blinking an eyelid. Which just makes Kaveh wonder all over again why he's supposedly trying to help him tonight, why he's making the architect's problems his business when usually he stays the hell out of it allโ
Maybe it's this new fucking hero complex he's got.
That's the thought on his mind when Alhaitham calls him a coward, and Kaveh feels something break, and very suddenly there are tears glimmering in the corners of his crimson eyes. And as the other man straightens up, but before he can turn away, he swings with one of those clenched fists, aiming to hit him square in the jaw. ]